Black Hairs Gone Grey

They’ve held my hand and guided my way
And lead me down the pathways of life.
And what a case of “patience” in truth
As they dealt with my questions in rife.

And now what can I effect for them
In the time of their ripened old age?
The wise who have been pillars in life—
What might be done to comfort such sage?

To pay a fond, warm visit in kind.
A card. A call. A letter. A smile.
Take time to hold a wrinkled lil hand,
Or give a small gift every short while.

All the black hairs are become quite grey
Such folks are a grand treasure on loan.
And in all of our prayers for them—
May God keep them for ever His own.

(c) 2015 w. salley